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An unfamiliar voice emanated from the dungeons, singing words Cersei could not understand. She knew they were High Valryrian, but she had never paid enough attention to her lessons with her tutor as a child to remember what the meaning behind those words might be. All she could understand was that she heard a collection of soothing noises singing strange words, sounding so beautiful, luring her into the dungeon like a siren’s song…

The singing was the latest strange thing to appear at the Red Keep ever since the Red Woman’s arrival the day before. No matter how often she told herself repeatedly in her head after Jaime left, “I am Cersei of the House Lannister, a lion of the Rock, the rightful queen of these Seven Kingdoms, trueborn daughter of Tywin Lannister,” who would not cringe for anyone, she still ached to have his body next to hers in their bed, and struggled to leave the bed every morning. She watched snow fall outside the windows of her chambers, the first time she had ever seen snow in King’s Landing. Dragons, monsters...all the stories she’d heard as a child and dismissed as lunacy, they were all true, and winter was here. And she was alone. She had Qyburn, of course, but he was a helper and advisor. There was Euron Greyjoy—she cringed as she thought of his arrogant smile—but he did not truly love or care about her, only about the power she could give him. And she would never give him that power; once he returned with the gold company and did his duty, she’d have Ser Gregor stangle Euron in his sleep before he could ever approach her bed. There was only the hope growing in her womb that was her true daily companion, giving her something to live for. I must rule, I must be strong for my child , Cersei told herself, my child will be better off without a one-handed fool for a father anyway. Under my care, she—I know she’s a girl, I know it— will launch a dynasty that will last a thousand years .

It was for her child that Cersei had her handmaidens dress her on that morning a few days after Jaime left, when Qyburn told her she had a visitor she should meet. Like every morning after that dark day, she watched the snow fall outside her window and longed to stay in bed all day, her hand resting over her stomach, but Qyburn insisted. “A friend of your family’s, she says she is. She says she can help you in the Great War.” “The Great War,” Cersei smirked, and went to reach for a glass of wine before remembering she could not have any until her child’s birth. “Let the usurpers and the pretenders fight the Great War.” Qyburn looked into her eyes with a look that almost seemed fearful. “No, you must come. I have met her and...you must come.” “What is this mysterious savior’s name?” Cersei asked. “She wouldn’t say. She said when you met you would know her.” Cersei was intrigued.

And thus she found herself sitting on the throne, with an enemy standing in front of her. When the Red Woman had first entered the room, Cersei inhaled a deep breath quickly—she, she who had a reanimated corpse as a guard, felt almost afraid. For the woman was beautiful, yes, but she was not just beautiful. She didn’t seem quite real, and she was almost frightening. Clothed entirely in red, with a hint of unnaturally crimson hair tucked under her red hood, her eyes glowed red as well, a color Cersei had never seen among the eyes of the living. Who is this creature—is she human ?

The woman took down her hood and smiled knowingly at Cersei. “I see you do not recognize me, but we share something in common.”

“You said you were a friend of the family, but you are nothing but a stranger.” And what a strange one, indeed.

“I did not lie. The former king, Robert Baratheon. Your husband.” But he was no family of mine, ever , Cersei thought to herself. “I never met him myself, but I feel I know him so well from all the stories I heard of him from his brother, Stannis Baratheon.” Cersei’s stomach dropped at hearing the name of the false king, who had tried to take King’s Landing and her life away from her, and as she scanned the women’s red robes and hair and noticed the red ruby gleaming at her neck, she realized exactly who she was.

“So Stannis Baratheon’s whore has come to my court. You played a key role in trying to have me killed and to have him sitting in my seat. And now you come to me...for what, groveling for forgiveness? Please give me any reason I should not have Ser Gregor snap your neck immediately.” Cersei nodded at Ser Gregor, who stood beside her, and the red woman, this Melisandre of Asshai as Cersei had heard her be called, smiled softly, her lips closed, at Ser Gregor instead of grimacing or shuddering with fear as most did.

“I made a mistake,” Melisandre said. Cersei snorted and rolled her eyes with amusement at the magnitude of this understatement. “The Lord of Light told me that Stannis was Azor Ahai, the warrior and son of fire, who could defeat the encroaching darkness. But he was no god, just a man.”

“I don’t care about your stupid god, or any god” Cersei snapped at Melisandre. “No god has a place under my rule.” The last time she had let a religious fanatic into her court, she’d ended up naked in the streets, her hair shorn off, covered in shit. For her, any god was a disease. Never again would anyone preaching of a higher power get close to her. “Maybe He does not, but I do,” Melisandre said calmly. “Winter is here. Snow falls in the capital—you never thought it would, did you?” she cocked her head to the side “and Snow is creating problems for you outside the capital as well. Ned Stark’s bastard. I was with him for a time at the Wall, after Stannis took us there. I went with him to Winterfell after Stannis’ death, because I did not know where else to go. But he is weaker than you think, and I can help you understand how to best undermine him.”

“In the same way you tried to help Stannis undermine my father?” Cersei sneered, and turned her head away from the woman’s penetrating gaze. Those red eyes bore into her own eyes, and they burned bright, too bright.

“Jon Snow is no hero. He is no god. He is only a weak man. I believed in him once, yes, after Stannis’ death left me unsure of what to believe. But his own men stabbed him. His own men did not trust him and left him to die, and only I was able to give him any life. You see, he owes everything to me, but then he cast me out. I saved his life, only to be exiled, and I told myself I must repay his ingratitude with revenge. ”

“Pray tell, why were you exiled?”

Melisandre’s composure broke for a moment, and her eyes softened as she looked at the floor and said, “I did something Jon Snow, or any rational man, could not forgive. I sacrificed a child to the Lord of Light to ensure Stannis’ victory at Winterfell”

“And that didn’t work, whore.” Melisandre did not flinch when Cersei used that word, and she raised her head to lock eyes with Cersei. “It did not work. But I have seen everything Jon Snow has done. I know his strategies, I know how his mind works—or really, I should say, how his mind doesn’t work” Cersei had to stifle a laugh at this remark, so she is otherworldly, but can speak my language . “And I know you. I have seen you in the flames. Your strategizing, your plotting. I saw the look of delight on your face as you raised a glass of wine to your lips watching the Sept of Baelor burn.” Cersei tried not to flinch. I was alone—how could anyone know what I did as I watched it burn? “I saw another handsome but foolish man leave the Capital to join the fighters in the North. He fled to join a cause he thinks will save the world, but he is mistaken about who will save us. I know because I too was once mistaken. I thought another was the Prince Who was Promised, but I now know,” placing her hand on her own stomach, “I know the Princess of Light is inside you, waiting to be born.”

Cersei shuddered and looked away, as the red woman did not break her gaze. She had not told anyone save Qyburn and Jaime of her pregnancy and was not yet showing. How could this woman know? How dare she bring up Jaime’s departure, and how could she have seen that terrible scene when he left?

She looked to Ser Gregor. “Ser Gregor, throw this charlatan in a cell. She has been an enemy to the crown for years, and now purports to know falsehoods.” If she knows these things, it’s too dangerous to let her leave this castle. I must keep her hidden, her knowledge stifled . Melisandre hardly even moved or reacted as Ser Gregor approached her, grabbing her by the arm. She put up no resistance, and let Ser Gregor pull her away. As she departed, she said in her deep, accented voice, “You can keep me imprisoned as long as you like. I need no food nor heat. But soon you will find yourself needing me.” These final words echoed in the throne room as Ser Gregor pulled her out, and Cersei finally let her whole body shake. A dangerous woman this Melisandre was, but also a fanatic, a fool who had lost everything for her King. Best to keep her contained for a bit, and then maybe confer with Qyburn about how Qyburn could use her for further experiments.

She spent the rest of the day trying to forget about the red woman, talking with Qyburn about their plans for the golden company. But when she slumbered, she could not tell if she was awake or asleep. The hot touch of the red woman’s fingers on her arm felt so real as she hovered over Cersei’s bed. Her hair, which had been fastened in a braid during their meeting, was loose, and tumbled onto the bed as she leaned forward to touch Cersei’s arm. It was so long that it trailed behind her in crimson waves that fell onto the floor. She was naked, and as Cersei took in her body, she could not help but admire the curves of her ample breasts and slender hips. The ruby shone bright at Melisandre’s neck as she gently grabbed Cersei’s arm saying, “come, come.”

Cersei no longer had any control over her body; she was at the red woman’s beckoning. She dragged her own naked body out of bed, as Melisandre led her to the mirror. She turned Cersei’s body so that they both faced the mirror, and stood behind her and she wrapped one arm around Cersei’s waist and she used the other to brush Cersei’s hair off her face, raking her long, graceful fingers through Cersei’s hair and stroking it repeatedly. In her slumber, Cersei could not—and had no desire to— put up any resistance. As the two women watched themselves in the mirror, the red woman then moved her mouth down the back of Cersei’s head, kissing the bare nape of her neck, than encircling her full lips around Cersei’s neck...

And then Cersei woke up. It was light outside, and no trace of the red woman’s presence was there. Only a dream, an odd, queer dream, but just a dream , she told herself. She rose from her bed and walked up to the mirror, looking into it intently as she brushed her hair back from her face in the same way Melisandre had. The spot of her neck hurt where the red woman’s mouth had sucked on it, but no mark was present. Perhaps being with child is causing to me to imagine things. Yes, that must be it .

After her handmaiden had dressed her, Cersei entered the Throne Room to find it eerily silent. Where was everyone? “By the dungeons, my queen,” her most faithful handmaiden, Bernadette said. “The DUNGEONS?” Cersei asked, “what in the seven hells could anyone be doing there willingly?” “It’s the singing,” Bernadette said, and began to smile to herself before stopping, fearful of the queen’s wrath. “The red woman, the new prisoner. She sings, and people gather to listen.” Cersei felt a surge of emotions rise within her—anger, yes, but also a strange kind of interest. “I’ll clear them out. That woman deserves no audience, trying to use her tricks to bewitch others as much as she did the fool Stannis Baratheon.” Cersei dismissed Bernadette and, raising her long black skirts, stormed into the dark passageway that led to the dungeon herself.

As she made her way through the dark corridor that lead to the dungeons, she smelled the rank smells of shit and piss from prisoners who had been there over the years—Ned Stark, Ellaria Sand, few had ever made it out alive. At the vestibule where the dungeon cells began, she noticed a small crowd of handmaidens and even Qyburn, standing solemnly as a clear, strong voice rang out, enchanting its audience. The red woman was in a cell too far back to be seen, but her voice could be heard. It was too mature to be called a sweet voice but….alluring, that was the right word. “Out! Everyone, out!” Cersei demanded, and as the crowd turned to face Cersei, their faces recoiled in fear, and they scurried out as quickly as possible. As Qyburn departed, Cersei took him by the shoulder and said “make sure you have sharp knives. This one might be easier to handle without a tongue.” Cersei noticed a twinge of shock on Qyburn’s face, but he quickly settled it back into its usual gentle expression. “Of course, my queen,” he said, and bowed before leaving.

Now Cersei was alone. The strange High Valeryian music continued, and Cersei slowly walked closer and closer towards it. As she walked past the empty cells, she shivered; despite her warm gown and cape of fur, it was still freezing in the dungeons. She walked past the cells that had held doomed traitors, and the music grew louder and louder as she approached the one occupied cell.

Finally, she was there, at the root of the singing. She turned from her side to face the prisoner, and was shocked by what she saw. The red woman’s arms were chained behind her to a post in the cell, and she was standing completely naked, with her hair still in its braid so long that it collapsed and dragged onto the dirty floor. Her clothing was nowhere to be found in the cell, although her ruby necklace remained on her neck. She continued singing softly as Cersei stared in stunned silence. “I did not ask Ser Gregor to strip you” she said, tilting her head to the left and arching her left eyebrow. Melisandre stopped singing. “And he didn’t” she said, arching her eyebrow right back at Cersei, mirroring her. “I told you that I didn’t need food or heat. The Lord of Light keeps me warm.” Cersei laughed haughtily: “you expect me to believe your clothes just...disappeared.” Melisandre said nothing, only smiled to herself and began singing again. “Stop with that nonsense or I will cut out your tongue!” Cersei snarled. Melisandre laughed, and Cersei felt her heart pound with increasing speed. This woman seemingly saw Cersei as no threat, even while chained to a post. I’ll show her what a threat I can be , Cersei thought, and unlocked the cell door to enter the room.

Unlike the rest of the cells, it did not reek of shit but rather of some strange floral scent. Cersei angrily walked up to Melisandre, her arms pinned behind her while chained. Coming right up against her face, Cersei grabbed the red woman’s braid—it was so heavy—and pulled it, then wrapped it around the woman’s long, pale neck. As she wrapped the braid around Melisandre’s neck she pulled on it so it would become tighter and tighter, choking the life out of her victim. Melisandre initially kept her composure, then started to look panicked as she became choked by her own red tresses. Cersei continued to pull tighter and tighter, and the red woman’s eyes started to dim as her braided chokehold began to cut into her neck and cut off her circulation. “And what do you see in any flame now?” Cersei sneered, only to then see the red woman give a peculiar smirk.

Cersei did not know why but, while pulling on the braid and holding Melisandre in a chokehold, she pressed her mouth against Melisandre’s, and the red woman returned her kiss. Cersei pulled on Melisandre’s braid even more tightly as she kissed her, first with her mouth closed, then more hungrily, trying to engulf the woman’s full lips with her own, to devour her so that she would no longer have this strange power over Cersei, to steal that allure away from her. But Melisandre continued breathing no matter how tightly she was choked, and finally Cersei’s hand fell from the chokehold and Melisandre’s long braid uncoiled from her neck and fell back onto the floor. Cersei pulled back for a moment, and looked Melisandre in the eyes. Melisandre stared back, without blinking. 

Cersei was no longer thinking at all, only feeling, as she dove back in for another passionate kiss, biting the woman’s ear as the woman purred with pleasure, then moving her mouth down to Melisandre’s neck, down to her full, perky breasts, which she kissed and then bit. Melisandre moaned with ecstasy at the bite, and Cersei knew what she had to do—what some strange, illogical part of her mind needed to do. She moved behind the post and unattached the chains that bound Melisandre’s arms behind her. As Cersei did so, she whispered from behind into Melisandre’s ear, “Prove yourself. Prove your loyalty. And maybe then you can keep your tongue.” With the chains unfastened, Melisandre took Cersei into her arms, and Cersei could feel their breasts press against one another’s even though her dress. Melisandre sank down to her knees. Cersei hitched up her skirts, and found that she was already wet. Melisandre put her mouth to Cersei’s opening and gently lapped her tongue around its surface, then reaching it deeper, pressing it harder, as Cersei grabbed the post to steady her shaking body. Melisandre remained in place even as Cersei’s hands moved from holding her dress up, and she continued her magic underneath Cersei’s skirts. The things she did with her tongue were things Jaime had never even considered, and Cersei felt a giant shudder wrack her entire body as she screamed with pleasure, a scream louder than that of any prisoner who had been tortured in those cells.

Her body collapsed onto the floor, and Melisandre emerged from under Cersei’s skirts, collapsed next to her. Melisandre began to smile, then to laugh, with such a deep rich tone to that laugh. I should slap her for this impudence, how dare she laugh at the queen , Cersei thought, until she looked at Melisandre again and caught her laughter like a contagion. Her stomach began to ache as she collapsed into Melisandre’s naked lap in laughter, which they were joined in together for a few moments, before Melisandre began stroking Cersei’s hair as Cersei’s head lay in her lap. “So, did I prove myself?” Melisandre asked, smirking. Cersei sat up and grabbed Melisandre’s face, so that they stared into one another’s eyes; Cersei’s eyes sparkled like green ice, and Melisandre’s danced like fire. Melisandre placed her hand upon Cersei’s stomach. “I will serve and protect you and the Princess,” she said, solemnly. “I will help you win the Great War, for her,” she said, patting Cersei’s stomach gently. “But right now...I’m getting hungry.” She broke out into a big smile, and both women started laughing as Melisandre dove her head under Cersei’s skirt once more.